


Special Request

by pitypartyof1



Category: Waterparks (Band)
Genre: Gen, Geoff is stuck in the middle, Otto's just trying to be responsible, childish!Awsten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 04:51:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13605912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pitypartyof1/pseuds/pitypartyof1
Summary: Awsten has a special request for this tour, Otto's not so sure about it, and Geoff's just trying to get them to figure it out.Alternatively: The one where the author refuses to provide a less vague summary and/or tags in the interest of maintaining the surprise.





	Special Request

**Author's Note:**

> Literally the shortest thing ever but oh well. I couldn't resist.

_“See?!”_

“Okay, so he’s a little grumpy.”

“He’s a little _bitch!”_

“Otto!”

“What? I’m sorry,” crossing his arms defensively, he scowls. “Were you not in the same room as me just then?” The drummer scoffs. “That’s not a _little grumpy_ , that some petty-ass bullshit.”

Geoff shrugs uncomfortably, eyes everywhere but on the other man. His shoulders hunch and he vehemently wishes to be anywhere that doesn’t require him to be stuck in the middle of his friends’ squabble. “I don’t know what you want me to say here. Did you do something to him?”

Lip curling, Otto’s gaze slips to a glare that Geoff thinks might actually singe him and he cringes.

“You _know_ what this is about. Stop covering for him.”

The thing is – it’s just – Otto’s sick of it. He’s sick of Awsten’s petty digs and attitude, of how they’re only directed at him, ever since…

And then _Geoff_! Making excuses like Awsten’s just having a bad day instead of a dickish week. It’s so fucking dumb and Otto is over it. He should’ve kept his mouth shut but fuck knows Geoff would’ve caved and let it happen. Someone had to be reasonable and put a foot down.

“Would it really be so bad?” the guitarist mumbles, train of thought obviously echoing Otto’s own.

Apparently, they’re going to have this discussion again then.

Otto can feel exasperation rising, making him snappish. “It’s just not practical!” he exclaims, gesturing in frustration. “Just fucking think about it for a second. How is it going to work? Plus, it would literally make me sick, man.”

Brow furrowing, Geoff scoffs softly. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not that bad, and you know it. It won’t make you _sick_ , just uncomfortable.” Then, voice softening, “c’mon. You know how badly he wants this.”

Momentarily staring up to the ceiling in resignation, Otto sighs. “Fine, it’s not that bad but you can’t ignore the rest of it. I mean,” he mimes around him, envisioning the bus, “we have no room for all the extra stuff we’d need, all the supplies!”

“Besides,” he barrels on, building steam, “we don’t have _time_. I mean, he wants to do this now? We leave in four days! We’re gonna have to use, like, special diapers unless we’re stopped or something. We can’t teach that on a constantly moving bus!”

Slumping into a seat, Geoff groans. “Look,” he scrubs a warm hand over his face, “I’m not saying he won’t be a pain in the ass, but it’ll make Aws happy. Maybe, I dunno, they make those pad things, maybe we could try those first. Maybe that’ll be enough for him.”

“Fine, but what about his exercise,” he challenges. “How are we gonna make sure he gets what he needs?”

“I don’t have a list of answers for you. We’ll have work it out.”

Otto groans. “That’s so unbelievably unhelpful. Thank you.”

“I’ll talk to him, alright?”

_“Please.”_

 

*

 

Geoff knuckles sleep from the corner of an eye as he waits for someone to answer his early morning knock. Awsten can’t ignore _or_ avoid him if he shows up when he knows the vocalist is still asleep. He’s not happy about it as he yawns yet again, but here he is.

“Wake up,” he nudges the heap of blankets with a none-to-gentle toe several minutes later.

The tuft of sleep-flattened blue hair that’s visible at the head of the bed twitches.

“Dude,” he scolds, nudging the lump a second time. “I know you’re awake.”  
Under the covers, Awsten hisses like the feral cat that wanders his neighborhood from time to time, clearly displeased with the wakeup call. _“What?”_

“We gotta talk, get the fuck up.”

Despite knowing Geoff can’t see it, Awsten glowers. He feels the shift in the mattress as Geoff plops onto the foot of it, clearly intending to wait him out. He huffs and pouts as he pokes his head just far enough to see Geoff’s stupid hair over the rim of his sheets. “About what,” he whines.

“Ott-“

“No,” he cuts off stubbornly, sinking back out of view.

Yes, it’s childish. No, it doesn’t solve anything. No, Geoff’s not leaving. Yes, Awsten’s totally going to hide from him anyway.

There’s a brief silence before Geoff speaks again and Awsten can hear the irked note in his soft tone. “I think he might consider it if you actually talked to him about it but being a passive-aggressive asshole really isn’t helping your cause.”

The sheets rustle dispassionately, but there’s no sign of the other man making another appearance any time soon. Geoff snags a pillow and whaps it down near where he guesses Awsten’s head to be. It does the trick as Awsten flails upright, swearing.

“What the fuck, man?”

_“Talk to him,”_ he demands warningly, thumping his side with the pillow one last time for good measure as he stalks toward the door, having done his part. “And stop tagging me in photos from the website. I don’t want my personal account overrun.”

Awsten frowns, rubbing his shoulder, but doesn’t call after him.

 

*

 

He has more pull than he thought, Geoff realizes as he watches Otto and Awsten on the floor, sitting contentedly together the next day. The talk appears to have gone well, from what he can see. Particularly considering the items spread around them: Several bottles of allergy pills, a leash, bowls, various toys, and a stack of potty pads.

Awsten spots him first. 

“Geoff!” he shrieks, smile lighting up his features. “Otto said I could have him!”

Smirking knowingly, he glances to Otto as Awsten continues his rant, unphased. Behind the vocalist, Otto rolls his eyes but there’s a small smile tugging at his lips as well. “When are we picking him up?”

“Three hours,” the drummer supplies helpfully as Awsten continues to wave around the photo of the smallest Golden Retriever puppy Geoff’s ever seen. “Aws’ still trying to think up a name for him. The last suggestion was Doug.”

Geoff snorts. “A Waterparks tour puppy named Doug.”

Awsten bounces on the balls of his feet. “Yeah, like UP! Or what if we call him George?”

As his excitement increases, so does his volume and the speed at which he’s speaking and Geoff resigns himself to spending the next three hours this way. “Awsten, slow down.”

“What about Steve?”

“Aws...”

“Or Nemo!”

“Ah, jesus…”

**Author's Note:**

> PUPPIES!  
> If Waterparks adopted a tour puppy, what would you name it?


End file.
